


Over

by Builder



Series: Heroverse [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mission Fic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: The mission isn't going so badly.  It just reminds Steve of one that did.





	Over

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt from tumblr. find me @builder051. This story builds on themes in my fics "You can have my everything" and "Starting with something." It's not necessary to read those, but it will give you a clearer picture of what all is going on.

“You go in here,” Steve calls to Bucky as they jog toward barricaded building.  “I’ll go around back.”

Bucky nods once and pulls his gun from his belt.  He uses his metal elbow to smash out the glass door and steps into the building’s foyer, already exchanging fire with a thug guard.

Steve watches as long as he can, then looks forward again.  He tears around the corner and turns into the narrow alley between the skyscraper and the bank of shops next door.  There’s a dilapidated back door, and a couple rams with his shield bust the lock.  Steve sprints inside and follows the sound of gunshots to the main lobby.

Bucky’s causing enough ruckus to cover Steve’s entrance.  He spots a couple of terrified receptionists crouched behind the front desk, and he runs over to them in a crouch.  Holding his shield in front of him to muffle his voice, he says, “The exit out back is clear.”

The two young women look at him blankly, terror in their eyes.  “You know how to get there?” Steve asks.  “The door out to the alley?”

One of them nods and grabs the other’s hand.  Steve lets out a relieved breath and offers a smile.  “Everything’s gonna be ok.  Go out back and get as far from here as you can.”

The two ladies crawl to the edge of the counter, then rise to their feet.  They make it a few steps into the main space when a bullet rips through the air and catches one in the shoulder.  She screams and falls, clutching the wound.  The other woman freezes, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Well, well, what have we here?”  A thug in a trench coat and a mask approaches.  As he moves toward Steve and the women, he presses several buttons on his weapon.  It breaks apart and reassembles, changing from just a gun to something much larger and pulsating with a menacing blueish glow.

“Innocent civilians who don’t deserve to be hurt,” Steve says, standing up to his full height and hefting his shield.  “If you have an issue, take it up with me.”

“Oh, I will,” the thug says.  He discharges his weapon, sending a ray of burning light toward Steve’s head.  He blocks it easily with his shield, but he smells hot metal.  He quickly reevaluates his assessment of the situation.  There’s a bigger potential for damage than he originally thought.  He needs to get the receptionists clear as quickly as possible.

Steve lunges at the man with his shield held out like a battering ram.  The thug leaps out of the way with superhuman speed and grabs the injured woman around the neck.  He holds his weapon to her head, sending tendrils of smoke up from her singed hair.

“I don’t think you want to do that,” the thug says with a chuckle.  “I could end her life so easily, and it would be all your fault.  What a shame that would be.”

Steve tightens his grip on his shield, trying to ignore the way his hands are suddenly shaking.  He has to act, he has to get this poor woman to safety.  But success is such a fine line from failure.  He could get her killed.

A rush of memories comes up uninvited, and Steve’s mind turns to the last time he was faced with a mission rife with impossible choices.  The bottom drops out of his stomach, and before he knows what’s happening, his knees hit the floor.  Maniacal laughter fills Steve’s ears, and he isn’t sure if it’s from the thug in front of him or just inside his head.  He hears the sizzling sound of the weapon discharging again, and panic flows through him as he realizes he’s powerless to stop it.

Somebody grabs Steve’s arm and raises his shield to cover his head again.  A second weapon goes off, and there’s a gruff yell as the thug stumbles, dropping his weapon and grabbing his hand.

“Steve.”  Bucky claps him on the back.  “You good to move?”

“Um…”  Steve’s brain feels like mush.  He isn’t sure if the threat is gone or just held off.  He’s still having trouble distinguishing past from present.

“Let’s go, ok?”  Bucky hauls him up from his knees and pulls Steve’s arm around his shoulders.

“But…the civilians…?”

“Already on their way out.”  Bucky nods toward the two receptionists in front of them, one supporting the other in a similar posture to Steve and Bucky.  “You’re gonna be ok, Stevie.”

The panic doesn’t fade, though, and Steve’s stomach is in his throat by the time they push through the back door and into the sunlit alley.  The smell of garbage assaults Steve’s senses, and he pushes away from Bucky and vomits.  He braces himself against the wall and throws up in waves until sobs start to take over from the heaves.

“Hey,” Bucky murmurs, patting his shoulder.  “It’s ok.”

“Go back in,” Steve gasps.  “I’m fine here.”

Bucky shakes his head.  “I already called in backup.  They’re taking care of things.  I’m staying here until you feel better, then I’m taking you home, ok?”

Steve lets the words sink in, and he slowly nods.  “I’m…I’m sorry, Buck.  I don’t know… I just…” He feels the need to explain himself, why he failed, but the words are sharp on his tongue.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky says.  “We can talk later, if you want.  But you don’t have to.”  He gives Steve’s arm a squeeze.  “All that matters is that you’re ok.”


End file.
